


Animorphs: New Game Plus

by Chatarou



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Andalite-Yeerk Relations, Andalites, Angst and Humour, But not everything goes as planned, Kelbrids, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Flavour, Time Travel Fix-It, Warnings May Change, Working title, Yeerks, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chatarou/pseuds/Chatarou
Summary: A run-away Kelbrid, a human girl, a stubborn Andalite female and a Yeerk-turned-Nothlit-turned-Yeerk-again are brought together, whisked back in time to the Andalite-Yeerk war on Earth, and to top it all off, realise that they can't go home without risking losing the war all over again. Oh, and what are they supposed to do with the Animorphs?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

My name is Carralis. I’m not a human. I’m not a Yeerk. I’m not an Andalite or a Hork-Bajir, or a Skrit-Na or a Taxxon.

I’m just a Kelbrid. Not in the nest and with now, with no band. I’d left them behind and some fairly crazy stuff happened afterwards. I’m not sure if anyone back home will ever see me again, but I’m keeping record of it just in case.

In fact, we all are, considering our stories crossover. I’m starting it off though, since the others thought my point of view would be the most interesting take on it. At least at first.

It’s up to you if you want to believe me. I have some unbelievable things to say, after all. For a start – I’m from the future. It’s a future that doesn’t happen any more. Or maybe it does: only in a parallel universe somewhere else. I believe those types of things. It makes what we’re doing seem less daunting that way.

If you’re still listening, there’s more. Earth is being invaded by a species of parasitic aliens called Yeerks. My friend is one of them. No, he isn’t part of the invasion. He’s like me: from the future. There’s four of us like this, in fact. The other two include a human and an Andalite. By some twist of fate, we were all roped in together.

We didn’t go to the past because we desired to. It was truly a ‘freak accident’ as the others say. By then we were stuck. We could’ve kept our heads down. Tried to ride it out until we got to our point in time when there was peace.

We didn’t. We argued over it. The time-stream is broken now. Anything could happen. Earth could be lost. Earth could be won. Everyone could get a happy ending or we could all be destroyed. Nobody even knows we’re fighting this war – not even the humans of Earth.

Now – most of us are aliens. Why should we care about whether Earth is invaded or not? Well, Earth is a tactical resource for the Yeerks. Humans make the perfect host. Dexterous and numerous. If the Yeerks win Earth, all our own kinds will be pulled into a war we might not be able to win. Then we’ll all see our loved ones hurt, killed or enslaved.

It’s a shame my kind weren’t even aware of this war, not even after it was over. We’re shut-ins like that. We stick to our own and we don’t trust others. It makes me wonder what we would’ve done had the Andalites broken our no-contact treaty and requested our help.

Yet those are all what-ifs. What-ifs are worthless. So instead, let me tell you something else. Something that happened. I will tell you my story, and how I came to be among a group of aliens, fighting for a planet I hadn’t even known existed.

It began when I ran away. I hadn’t said goodbye to a single band-mate. I didn’t know I wouldn’t be seeing them again, of course. You see, I’d done something considered terrible amongst my kind and couldn’t face the thought of staying to see the consequences.

No-one I know thinks that I should’ve made such a great deal over it. I was a young, fiery Kelbrid, filled with a sense of duty and discipline, and until that moment, I’d never done anything out of line.

So that’s why I panicked.

I dropped from my shelf in the colony and spread my flight cerata. The thrill of acceleration graced me. I almost flew into another Kelbrid. I whistled an apology to her and kept flying. I was still inside the transparent chambers of the colony superstructure. I raced towards the nearest exit - one I’d used so many times.

It was ingrained in my memory. I burst through it and out the other side. I didn’t delay: I couldn’t think straight and I just needed to _fly_.

I quickly folded my cerata and shot down to just above ocean level and coasted on the watery air cushion. Thankfully, we were deep into a night cycle, so there was no worry about any stray oceanic eruptions.

It also meant it was practically impossible to see anything once I left the lights of the colony perimeter. I continued coasting blind, relying only on my cerata to guide me in the changing wind currents.

There was no destination in mind, and no one would be insane enough to follow me this far away at night. I needed to think. I needed to get away. Still, my thought went to my band-mates.

Rennis, Oxyss... what would they think of me? I only hoped Kozirro would be okay. In all likelihood, he would be. After all, Pastelliar was there. She’d look after him.

I wondered what would happen if I was kicked from the band. They’d still be large enough with seven members. We were still young. They might even find a replacement for me.

My thoughts drifted as I flew. Then I realised it. How long had it been since I’d flown from my colony? Panicked, I soared in circles, trying to find the speck of light that’d signify my colony in the distance.

The only thing I saw was darkness. Inky, black darkness. I was stupid. You never fly at night. Never. Kelbrid nurses tell stories to hatchlings about terrible things that happen to night-fliers. They’d frightened me so much that I’d been the last in my band to work the courage to even take his first flight lesson.

Then I’d gone and done it. I’d flown into the darkness.

Frightened, I picked a random direction to fly in. It was better than giving up.

It wasn’t good enough. I never saw the lights of my colony shining bright along the horizon ever again. Instead, the horizon just kept stretching and stretching as I flew. It never ended. Brazion’s oceans were huge, almost as large as Earth’s.

I found myself tiring. I closed my eyes. The pain in my muscles and the burning in my throat was somewhat soothed by the warm wind against my skin.

Then, despite my attempts to stay awake, my senses dulled. My hearts slowed. I must’ve flown miles and I was reaching the end of my tether.

I could barely hear the distant crashing of the waves. Even the ever-constant rumble of the sky felt so far away. My cerata faltered and folded, and the sharp clarity of sound, wind, and humidity fell away from me.

The warm surface of the ocean caressed me as I fell into it. It washed against me, trying to pull me under.

I fell unconscious.

When I woke up, I was on sand. The ocean waves lapped against me gently. I’d washed up on the beach. The fact that it was sandy and baking didn’t tell me anything. Brazion was always either ocean or sand with nothing in-between.

Something touched me but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was so tired. My brain rationalised it as a curious seaworm wondering whether I was dead yet.

It touched me again. Then another creature touched me on my other side. Their fingers were freezing. But like a trapped raullin that knew it was going to die anyway, I didn’t do anything. I let them pick me up. Heft my body away from where I’d laid.

Whoever had picked me up must’ve struggled to carry me. They dropped me a couple of times. The last time they dropped me was on a cold floor, and then I fell unconscious again.

* * *

The first thing I became aware of was that I was cold. It was an uncomfortable feeling. It’s never cold in the colony. And the air… it was old. Barely moving, lazily circulating. Only the oldest, most dilapidated colonies had air this stale. Yet oddly, it was also dry as a bone.

My hunger and tiredness was gone, as if my entire flight had been a dream. I briefly wondered if that’d been the case until I wearily opened my eyes.

There was this thing in front of me. A creature of some sort. I tried to focus on it. I must’ve slept for ages, because my eyes refused to cooperate for the first few minutes. But when they did, I wished they hadn’t.

I was so shocked I jolted up and hit my head on the ceiling. It hurt. I half-swore, half-screamed. The creature in front of me jumped back too, but kept its huge creepy eyes trained on mine.

It was ugly. Disgusting, even. Pallid flesh, with no cerata, exoskeleton, or fur, or anything really. Just pale, dry skin.

I’d scared it. But I realised it didn’t run because I was in a cage. A metal one with metal bars. That immediately struck me as odd. Why would anyone build a cage out of metal?

It stared at me. I stared back. I had no idea what it was. I’d never seen or heard of anything like it. It was grey, with slender arms and legs, and short fingers. An uninspired, dull, creepy… thing. I was so shocked that I wanted to go running right back to my colony to tell everyone about the horrible encounter.

Could I talk to it? Was it even intelligent?

“What… what are you?” I asked timidly. My voice echoed down the metal hallways, and the feedback in my cerata told me I must’ve been in a massive structure. Nothing as huge as my colony, but maybe the same size as one of its storm shields.

The thought of it sent shivers down my dorsal. Where was I? Who was my captor? Why did they put me in a metal cage?

The creature muttered something in a language I’d never heard, dropped to all fours and scurried away.

That - that had been rude. And I was still very, very confused.

I tried poking my head out from the bars to peer down the corridor it’d escaped through. If it thought metal could hold me inside the cage, then maybe it was best not to play my only trick until I knew what I really wanted to do.

After all, I was always known as the patient, calculating band-mate. I felt I needed to live up to it.

There again, the corridors were empty. Nobody was about.

And the only way to find out where I was, was to get out of the cage.

I thought about what Oxyss would’ve done and chuckled. Maybe I should act like her for once.

As I pondered, a scream broke the silence.

I swallowed, cringing. It was high-pitched and probably one of the worst sounds I had ever heard in my entire life. No animal on Brazion made that sound.

Another creature was being escorted by two of the creatures I’d seen earlier.

It was surprisingly similar to them, with the same odd posture that kept their bodies vertical. This one had smaller eyes, and you could tell by the way it walked that it could never drop to all fours and scurry around.

It also had a long patch of hair on its head, as black as my own membrane, and a pinkish skin tone. But it also seemed to have an extra layer of skin, which after a few moments I figured was some sort of accessory and not actually part of the creature’s body. But why would it wear such a thing? Was it kidnapped during courtship? Or maybe made to wear it by the grey ones?

It seemed the newcomer was as much a prisoner here as I was. It kicked, shouted and screamed at the grey ones, but they continued dragging it until they reached the front of my cage.

I backed up, worried I would be noticed and punished in some way. A bit of a pointless action, since the grey ones simply opened my cage doors and threw the creature in with me.

A loud thud rang through the floor as it scrabbled to get back up on both feet and stared at me in horror. I assumed it was horror, at least judging by its wide eyes and act of backing away. But I didn’t know what to think any longer. I was in a strange place surrounded by strange creatures.

The grey ones watched for a few moments more, then left the way they’d came.

I supposed this creature was meant to be some kind of nest-mate for me.

I gave an unimpressed snort and turned away from it to sit down. It wasn’t that I was actually unimpressed. My curiosity was barely contained. But I couldn’t think of anything better to do, with it screeching and trying to get as far away from me as possible.

My eldest clutch-mate always said to me when befriending prey animals, or even with shy nestlings: show them you’re not interested in them and they’ll try to approach you themselves.

A few agitating moments passed and I was surprised to see that he’d been right.

The creature said something and I turned my head to take a sidelong look at it. It said something again. When it wasn’t screaming, its voice was level and fairly pleasant. I just didn’t know what it was saying.

It must have been some sort of language. There was always a difference between pointless animal sounds and a purposeful language. I never really stopped to think about what that difference was, but I _knew_ this was a language.

I tilted my head at the creature and kept my cerata splayed.

“Do you speak Iltsilid?” I asked tentatively, hoping it’d somehow know my small colony’s dialect, even if it wasn’t a Kelbrid.

It looked at me, equally confused.

It was a smallish creature, about two thirds of my size. It wasn’t covered in any sort of mucus or hard shell. I wondered how it could survive on Brazion’s surface. It didn’t look adapted to live underground.

I went to stand on my own two legs and carefully approached it. It stared back at me warily. I noticed it was sparing glances at my hands.

No, not my hands, my claws. I noticed that its own hands had three fewer fingers than mine. And they weren’t tipped with hooks, but flat, transparent nails. It was clear that this creature’s hands weren’t built for fighting.

I wished I could tell it that, well, neither were mine. They were hooked for climbing, not for fighting. My limbs were powerful, but far too short to get any decent range on a strike. Maybe for an emergency but not a fight.

Since it couldn’t understand my language, maybe it would understand tones? I gave a submissive whine. The same type that hatchlings give to their parents before they learn how to speak.

At that point I couldn’t be more grateful that none of my own kind were around to hear that. I think I would’ve rather leapt into the ocean again than try to live that down.

But to the creature, it seemed to understand, and it relaxed.

At this point, there was no question of its intelligence.

I held out a hand to it, palm up. It flinched a little, looked at me questioningly, then touched its own fleshy palm on mine. It didn’t really inspect my hand, but I could see it was curious. It mumbled something soothingly, then let go of my hand.

I stared at my hand dumbly. What had just happened?

I must’ve looked pretty stupid, because the creature started chattering in strange, lilting tones. It was a fairly entertaining noise. Then I realised what it was doing.

It was laughing at me.

I looked at it indignantly, its laughter echoing down the metal hallways and reminding me of the gigantic chasm we were trapped inside.

And I started chuckling too.

This was just so stupid.

Once our laughter died down, my new cage-mate tried talking to me again. It tried about a dozen words, before it said one that I recognised.

“Kelbrid?"

I jolted in surprise, and I had to remember to give an affirmative chirp. It felt strange to feel those sounds come from my throat again, but it was all I had.

Kelbrid was the accidental collective name of our species, one that the original space-farers used when travelling through space. We’d called ourselves that since the Kelbra Colony, from the Kelbra Desert, had been the largest original super-colony on the planet.

Then it clicked.

I was in a spaceship. These were aliens.

Blame me for not realising sooner, but space had never really held any interest for me. I cared for my band-mates first and Brazion second. What other Kelbrids did in space was irrelevant to anything to do with my life.

I also found it hard to believe a foreign ship would be allowed anywhere near Brazion. If it didn’t have permission to enter our subspace, it would’ve been shot clean straight of the sky and scrapped for valuable building materials.

The alien I’d been talking to seemed as surprised as I was. I suppose it didn’t really know much either.

It pointed at itself and said another word. I paused for a second.

“Human,” I copied with perfect mimicry.

It jumped. I supposed I’d been pretty quiet since we’d met. But the human seemed pleased, pointed at itself, and said a different word.

“Lilah,” I copied again. A name, I guessed.

If that was the case, I motioned to myself and said my own name.

“Carralis,” I said.

Lilah nodded. “Carralis,” it repeated carefully after stuttering a couple of times.

* * *

I guess my name must’ve been a little too long for its liking, because the alien had taken to calling me Carra. I didn’t really mind. Lilah was a short name, so I supposed humans preferred it that way.

It turned out that we didn’t need to break out of the cage either. After I figured out that Lilah wanted to use my claws, the alien worked out how to undo the flimsy lock with my index hook.

After that, we’d taken multiple excursions throughout the ship, although we could never leave for too long. Skrit-Na, as I’d learned when Lilah pointed and said their name, patrolled the cages regularly.

It was during one of these excursions that we came along a pair of animals. You could tell they weren’t intelligent. When I stumbled past them, they were calm but wary of us.

Both of them were small and walked on two legs with a posture more like mine than either the Skrit-Na or Lilah, and one of them was such a bright shade of blue I had to wonder what type of environment would require them to look so vibrant.

“Earth animals,” she said to me when she noticed me staring. She’d managed to explain to me that Earth was the planet she came from and in the process I’d learned a small amount of English from her.

I was apparently ‘incredible’ at learning the new language, but it wasn’t really that difficult from learning a new colony language. I personally thought I was a bit slow. A nagging feeling itched at my mind and told me that any of my band-mates would’ve learned it faster.

The language also had a few strange linguistic rules, but with Lilah’s guidance, I soon got used to them.

“Different species?” I asked her. There was a thing with words being slightly different if you were talking about more than one of a thing. We had a similar thing with Iltshil, but it involved speaking with a different pitch rather than changing the entire word.

“No, they’re the same species,” she replied. I stared at her questioningly, cerata splayed.

She pointed at the colourful one. “Male,” she stated. Then she pointed at the drab one. “Female.”

I must have seemed confused, because she elaborated.

“That one is male and that one is female,” she said. Then she pointed at herself. “I am female, too.” She motioned back towards the drab animal, then to herself. “We are both female.”

I nodded, a gesture I’d picked up off Lilah. The drab animal must’ve been the egg-layer to blend in with its environment, not unlike Kelbrids.

“I am male,” I said, with a small smile. My kind didn’t normally smile, but we had the ability to, and I figured I might as well try doing it and make Lilah feel a little bit more at ease with me.

She nodded, seeming quite interested.

I had wanted to ask her about that but didn’t have any way to convey my question. By the Sands, I hadn’t even been sure if aliens had different sexes.

But I guessed the Earth animals had taught me.

“What is their name? The name of their species?” I asked slowly, a little worried that I’d gotten the ‘of’ convention wrong, but my worries were unfounded.

“Peafowl,” she said, then pointed to each gender. “Peacock, peahen. Very beautiful animals.”

I nodded as if I’d stumbled onto some deep profound meaning. I didn’t repeat the words but Lilah knew by now that I’d filed them away for later, ready to surprise her.

She decided to continue the lesson. “They’re mates. Married.” She moved her hands and placed them palm over palm, so that they clasped each other.

I stared at the gesture, and my cerata flared in surprise. I reared back, stared at her, then glanced at my own hand. I hadn’t… Had I…?

“No, no!” She raised her hands, both palms facing me. “Uh, what we did, that was different! Besides, I already have someone I like, sort of,” she laughed softly, smiling and flashing her teeth at me again. The gesture seemed somewhat bashful.

“Oh,” I said. I laughed awkwardly back. “I have no mate,” I admitted. I was old enough to and already had someone in mind, but I was still officially unpaired. I quickly veered away from the subject of myself. “What is the name of your… someone?” I asked as if Lilah was the only interesting person in the room.

She suddenly appeared hesitant and I briefly wondered if I’d asked a question too far. Had I broken some sort of custom?

“His name is Oskel Four-Nine-Four,” she said skittishly, her skin turning an even darker shade of pink as the words exited her mouth.

I tilted my head. Was that it? It was a long name but…

She seemed a bit taken aback by my confusion, then she repeated her mates’ name and held up her hands, but only a few fingers at a time. At first she held up four, then nine, then four again. Then she paused and continued to hold up different amounts of fingers, then said:

“Numbers.”

She held up one finger. “Number one.” Then she held up two. “Number two.” She did this for all of her fingers.

“Your mate has numbers in his name?” I asked her when she’d finished. She nodded. “Why does your name have no numbers?”

She pulled a funny face but still answered my question.

“Why doesn’t my name have numbers?” She repeated for my benefit, aware that I’d been unsure of how to word the question and I filed away the information. “Because human names don’t have numbers,” she said softly.

“Oskel Four-Nine-Four isn’t human?” I asked, shocked. Was this normal for aliens?

Lilah frowned. It wasn’t a disappointed frown, like she made when she saw a caged animal, but more of a troubled one. “Oskel wasn’t human,” she explained. Wasn’t human… so he was human now?

I was so surprised I didn’t bother to formulate my reply properly. “Human now?” I asked, aware that I probably sounded like a hatchling.

She nodded.

“Non-human mates normal for humans?”

“ _Are_ non-human mates normal?” She repeated, remembering to correct me again. “No, Carra, they aren’t.”

She’d said it with an almost aggressive tone. I guessed that’s why she’d struggled with a reply when I’d asked her. She didn’t know how to tell me. Or whether to tell me at all, I guessed.

“He is human now,” I said, trying to sound sure of myself, as if I wasn’t still reeling from the revelation that people could swap species where Lilah came from. “If he wasn’t human, doesn’t matter. He is your someone, that is what matters.”

She smiled at me. “Your English is getting very good. Already better than a Hork-Bajir, I think.

“And… the word is love,” she said, hoping to enter the new word into my dictionary. I noticed her skin was still flushed pink. “When you really care about someone.”

“Love?” I repeated with that questioning lilt that English used when asking questions.

“We do... love each other, I guess. Ugh, that feels weird to say. We’re really good friends. I hope I can see him again soon. Or at least my family. I love them too,” Lilah said distantly, looking away from me and at the distant wall. All of a sudden, she appeared incredibly sad. “Let’s go back. I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”

I nodded and we headed back to the cages. We were so far away from Earth that thinking about her own kind must’ve upset her. I didn’t blame her.

I missed my band-mates too.


	2. Chapter 2

We were in a room that was filled with junk, and strange alien artefacts that I’m not even sure Rennis would’ve been able to understand. One of the artefacts had been a ‘maths textbook’, Lilah called it, which was filled with so many strange, headache-inducing symbols that I never wanted to look at it again.

Other than that, Lilah was particularly interested in the books. She was reading through one at the moment. Curious, I waded through the junk on four legs, stepping between piles of trinkets, careful not to disturb anything.

I pushed my head close to hers, trying to get a peek of what she was reading. I couldn’t read it, but I still marvelled at the tiny scrawl marked across the mesh-thin surface.

All of a sudden, Lilah jolted with a cry. Her book clattered onto the floor.

“What’s wrong!?” I cried, tripping backwards in my own surprise and knocking over a junk pile with a clatter.

Lilah held a hand to her chest and tried to steady her breathing. “Nothing… nothing, you just surprised me – that’s all,” she reassured me.

“Are you sure?” I asked, confused. “That was a little intense.”

“Well, it’s just, ah, you see Carra,” she stuttered and placed her book on her lap. “You look a bit scary to me, that’s all.”

I caught my reflection in a mirror to my side and the glitter of my own eyes stared back, lining my dorsal and clustering symmetrically on my head. I never thought I looked ugly, let alone scary.

“I’ve never been called scary before,” I admitted, uncomfortably reminded of the time when Lilah first saw me. “Am I…?”

Lilah nodded shyly. “Just when I don’t expect you to be there. You’re a bit like a shadow, kind of hard to see until the light hits you right, and then you catch me off guard. Plus, that’s a lot of eyes. Can you really see out of all of them?”

“Wh-what? Yes…?” I stuttered at the unexpected question. “My vision’s better around my head, though,” I felt compelled to add.

“Huh, cool. I guess that’s another alien that I’ll never be able to get the jump on,” she commented, a hint of mischief reflected in her eyes.

I didn’t really understand what she meant, but I nodded anyway. I’d have to remember not to approach Lilah from behind - at least not without saying anything - again.

Taking a breath, Lilah picked up the book she’d dropped and neatly placed it away on a pile. She spotted a round hatch in the side of the wall, cautiously placed a hand on it, then pulled it back. It slid to the side, and a glass porthole was exposed.

Bright light shone into the room. Lilah gasped. At what, I had no clue, as I had to close my eyes before it blinded me.

“Z-Space,” Lilah announced quietly. “Words don’t really do it justice,” she commented.

“Words would be helpful right now, as I can’t see.” I added.

Lilah shuffled and paused for a beat. “It’s too bright for you?”

I nodded and she closed the hatch. Cautiously, I opened my eyes. “Z-Space? What’s Z-Space?”

“Oh, it’s like an alternate dimension that spaceships can move into and use to take shortcuts through space for long trips. Otherwise it’d take way too long to get between planets.”

“Ah. We call it something else,” I explained. “So. We’re in space.”

“Yeah.” Lilah nodded. “I guess if the Skrit picked you up from your planet, they’ve moved on now. God knows where we are now.”

Like that, I realised I wasn’t on my own planet any more. And for the first time ever, I felt homesick. It made me wonder how long Lilah had been on this ship before me. Did she feel homesick too? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask, and the conversation fell silent for a while after that.

Lilah broke the silence. “You know... your ability to learn English just keeps freaking me out. It would take a human years to get as good as you are now. Are you sure you’re normal for your species and not like… some kind of prodigy?”

“Prodigy?”

“Someone who’s naturally really good at something.”

I shook my head. “I’m normal. Maybe Kelbrids are better at learning than humans?” I suggested.

She seemed offended at that.

“At language,” I added. “There’s a lot of Kelbrid languages. So we need to be able to learn quickly.”

Then she asked me another question out of nowhere.

“So… have you ever heard of Yeerks?”

It was sometimes astonishing how quickly she could change subjects.

“Yeerks? Are those some kind of Earth animal?”

“Well, no. They’re another kind of alien. They tried to invade Earth once.”

She stopped explaining. Did she want me to ask her a question?

“Did you fight them?” I asked, then realised my mistake. “Oh! You must have done, since you’re here.”

Lilah smiled. “Y’know, for a member of a spooky alien race, you’re pretty absent-minded,” she stated. “Anyway - a group of six teenagers, about my age, fought them off with some alien technology. They were pretty famous, they wrote a few books documenting it and everything.”

My cerata unfolded in shock. “Is it normal for human teenagers to fight invaders?” I asked, aware of how young they were compared to my own species.

“No, not at all. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The only ones who knew about the invasion and had the ability to fight it off,” she grinned awkwardly. “This’ll probably sound kind of unbelievable but… an Andalite gave them the technology as a sort of last-ditch effort.”

Lilah was also an adolescent, biologically the same age as I was, but I liked to imagine her as a mentor. She seemed to enjoy explaining things.

“It meant they ended up trying to save Earth all by themselves though. They almost lost because of it. Sometimes I wonder if they would’ve been better off getting other people involved.

“You know, we can’t escape. But I’ve been thinking about a way we might be able to get free. We’d have to find the control room though.”

“Won’t that be full of Skrit-Na?” I asked.

“Nope.” She smiled, clearly trying to hold back the grin that was tugging on her lips. “Their lunch break is probably now,” she said with a tap to the time-keeping device strapped on her wrist. “Didn’t you notice how they never give us food right about this time? I mean, that’s my theory. It can’t hurt to sneak in and check it out, right?”

I nodded slowly.

For so-called professional kidnappers, Skrit-Na were always terrible at having designated feeding times. I was sure they only did it whenever they remembered to. But why had Lilah been tracking Skrit-Na routines? What could we do while still trapped in Z-Space?

Lilah noticed me staring at her.

She smiled. “Don’t worry Carra, we’ll probably be fine. Just leave it to me.” She held her hand up so that two of the first fingers formed a ‘v’ shape. It apparently meant victory, and she had a habit of doing it whenever we successfully sneaked past a Skrit-Na or found a new room with interesting things inside.

“No,” I couldn’t help but disagree. “What if they catch us?”

“We won’t let them catch us,” she rebutted and started wading back through the junk, towards the door of the room’s exit. I stared at her as she went. If she thought I was going to follow her like a nestling…

Then she was completely right.

I trundled back through the path I’d knocked over earlier.

“Okay, so I guess this is what we’re doing now,” I muttered to the both of us as Lilah opened the door, checked both ways, and stepped out into the metal corridor.

Skrit-Na ships, as we’d learned, were arranged into concentric circles of corridors that made them look like flattened spheres on the outside, or ‘saucers’ as Lilah called them.

She led me through the corridors, accessing each door that led to the next innermost corridor. It was a long process. The Skrit-Na ship was large, after all. It had to be, to carry so much cargo in its hold.

Our trip through the corridors was carried out in complete silence. My cerata told me through the small vibrations we made that the corridors were empty, but we never chanced it. If Skrit-Na ever found us escaped, they’d put a sturdier lock on the cages and we’d be stuck.

I stopped.

“Lilah,” I whispered. “I sense a disturbance.”

She snorted. Was something wrong with what I said?

Still, she stopped walking and peered behind us, equally perplexed as to what I must’ve heard.

Then, the disturbance made itself known. It was a muddy-brown, many-legged creature. It travelled down the corridor as if nothing could’ve stopped it. It, like all the other sapient aliens I had seen, was ugly.

I turned to face it, cerata flat, ready to fight. It was only one.

Lilah clearly sensed my intent and shouted. “Carra, don’t!” I felt a tug on my arm as she tried to dissuade me.

“I can take it,” I hissed, determined. “I can kill it.”

“Oh my God, Carra. Calm down! Don’t hurt it. It won’t do anything.”

I turned to her questioningly. And like she said, the creature approached us, gave us a cursory inspection, then continued as if everything was in order.

I watched it as it left. “Why didn’t it do anything? It isn’t going to inform the Skrit-Na?”

She shook her head knowingly. “No... It’s a Skrit-Na child. It’s not much more intelligent than an animal and it can’t speak.”

I nodded. “Sorry,” I apologised. “Let’s keep going,” I said to her, not wanting to hang around in Skrit-Na corridors any more. The whole place was making me uneasy. She nodded and continued.

We eventually came to a door that was different. It was thicker, heavier, and adorned with more alien symbols than I’d cared to ever notice. Some of them appeared to be different languages tacked on top of the others.

Lilah tried to jiggle the door open and failed.

“Keep out,” she said, eyes glued to one of the signs. It must’ve been in English. “Fitting, for what we’re about to _not_ do.”

She grinned and nodded to me, then stepped aside to allow me access.

Okay. Clearly, she wanted me to open it. I approached the door, lowered my head, and bashed it against the metal.

**THUD.**

The door broke from its hinges and fell over forwards, landing with a ringing thud.

Lilah only stared at me, shock written all over her face.

“Do you hate doors or something?” She asked me.

“That wasn’t what you wanted me to do, was it?” The metal noise reverberated through the ship’s hull, punctuating my question.

She shook her head. “I might have actually wanted you to pick the lock,” she said, waggling a finger at me.

I looked at the fallen door. It had a keyhole, exactly like the locks that hanged off our cages.

“Oh. I didn’t see that.”

A moment of silence passed.

”I’m sure the Skrit-Na have a spare door somewhere,” I said.

Stepping past, we peered into the room ahead.

It was completely circular, bathed in darkness. And all around its edges were consoles, full of buttons and keys and switches and levers that glowed more colours than I’d ever seen in one place.

And above those consoles? Huge windows. Windows that provided a complete 360 degree view. The expanse of Z-Space was all around us, filtered by a screen this time, thankfully.

“Woah,” Lilah voiced as she stepped over the door and approached a console. Her hand brushed the controls but didn’t activate them. “So many switches. Wonder which ones open the comms.”

“You know how to control spaceships?” I asked her as I followed behind, still too afraid to even step forward and confront the controls and passing Z-Space scenery.

Lilah smiled at me. “I know some things about spaceships,” she said cryptically. “I had family friends teach me about them before I was kidnapped. Played a few sims, too, you know...”

Through all our lessons and time spent together, I noticed that I’d never actually asked her how she’d been kidnapped.

I asked her about it and she obliged an answer.

“It wasn’t a super-interesting event.” She paused to glance up towards the ceiling for a few split moments. “I was just coming home from school when the stupid aliens beamed me up. I didn’t even know what was happening until I was on the ship,” she said, sounding genuinely frustrated. “I mean, why did it have to be me, of everyone?”

“At least it wasn’t someone less capable than you,” I voiced. “When I think, I appreciate that the Skrit-Na caught me instead of a younger Kelbrid. They’d be terrified.”

“That’s a sweet way to think about it,” said Lilah.

“Things would’ve been a lot easier if they’d taken an adult instead of me, though,” I added.

“Hmm? How so?”

I hesitated. How would I explain? “I’m not sure I know how to explain. What did you bring us here to do,” I asked her, the ominous feeling of having trespassed hanging over us like storm clouds.

“Keep your pants on, then,” she said, then started fiddling with some of the controls. I half-splayed my cerata. “Pants? I’m not wearing pants,” I said.

“I really hope this is the comms console. Otherwise we’ll be shooting laser-fire in Z-Space or setting a course for the centre of the sun,” Lilah muttered to herself.

I eyed her with concern. “You know what you’re doing?” I asked.

“I don’t, but the console sort of looks similar to a Bug fighter, so I’m crossing our fingers.”

I had no clue what that was or what it meant for her understanding of Skrit-Na spaceships, but I let her carry on in silence. I wasn’t sure we’d do anything useful, but Lilah was the only one who could do anything at all.

“See, I think this is the transponder. So if I can get an open channel, we might be able to request a rescue. It’s pretty illegal for Skrit-Na to smuggle sapient cargo, no matter whose space they’re in. I mean, as long as we’re not already in their own space. I hope.” She gave me a nod, aware of what I’d told her about our strict policies. We didn’t tolerate aliens entering our subspace without permission, probably because of aliens like the Skrit-Na.

She fiddled with the switches a couple more times, then made a noise of frustration.

“Screw it, open broadcast it is. I think I can set it to loop until the Skrit-Na find it and turn it off. But they’ll know someone’s tampered here.”

She turned to me.

“All right Carra, we’re going to be live. I think it’ll be a good idea for both of us to talk, since then we’ll have twice the chance of being rescued by _someone_. I’ll be speaking in English since I don’t know Galard. Damn… if only Oskel were here. At least things would be a bit more fun.”

I nodded, aware that this was the best chance we had to free ourselves and go home.

Lilah flipped a switch and spoke into the microphone first.

“Hello to anyone hearing this,” she started awkwardly. “My name is Delilah Lacey, a human. I’m also a seventeen-year old who would really like to go home.” She fiddled with the edge of her shirt. “I’ve been abducted by the Skrit-Na for some reason. They’re currently travelling through Z-Space.” She glanced up at the glaring white windows.

“I’m here with a friend, who’s also been kidnapped. He’s an alien so he’s going to talk in his own language next.” She looked to me and I tensed.

I stepped towards the microphone. I would not be speaking English, but Universal Kelbrid.

“I am Carralis Iltsilid-South in my 4th half-cycle, of the 7007th generation. To any who can understand me, I request that the Skrit-Na ship is intercepted and its crew arrested or destroyed. Skrit-Na have kidnapped me and an… alien friend.” I hesitated. There was no word for Lilah’s species in our language. “There are also many animals from Brazion on board. Respond as soon as you can.”

Lilah ended the transmission when she was sure I’d finished.

“God, a human could never speak whatever that is. It’s just clicks and growls,” she mentioned just as she finished adjusting the controls.

I only nodded, still reeling with anxiety at the transmission. Would anyone hear us? Who would rescue us? Would the Skrit-Na figure out what we’d done? That we’d been the ones who’d broken into the control room and sent a distress signal?

When we left the control room, we made sure to carefully step over the broken door.

* * *

I woke up to Lilah shaking me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her as I raised my head, still fighting the tiredness that threatened to smother me and send me straight back to sleep.

She stared at me nervously. "Something's wrong, Carra," she whispered, still knelt next to my lying form. Sleeping on the floor hadn't been comfortable, but we were well used to it by now. "I heard a blast hit the shields."

Now that woke me up. I glanced at the walls nervously.

As if Lilah read my mind, she went straight into explanation mode. "I’m not one-hundred percent sure," she stated. "But I think there's a good chance someone heard us and they're trying to stop the ship now."

"Let's hope so," I grumbled, still sat down in our cage. I didn't go back to sleep though. There were too many things to think about. Were we even being rescued? If so, would our rescuers be Kelbrid, or human? Maybe even another species?

Some part of me was curious what it’d be like being rescued by humans. This was likely my only chance to meet more aliens before going home. The other Kelbrids would be fascinated to see my experiences when I was old enough to properly share them.

"Hey," said Lilah, "do you think we should take anything before we're rescued? Food, water, entertainment? Maybe valuables?"

"That’s not a bad idea,” I commented, still feeling drowsy from being woken up. “Our rescuers might not have the right type of food for both of us.”

Lilah gave me another one of her looks.

"Yes?"

"What do you even eat, anyway? They always put me in another room," she said. She tried to sound like she was only passingly interested, but I saw her fiddle with her sleeve, an action I’d come to know as a display of nervousness. Was she really nervous about what I ate?

"Human corpses," I said, my voice flat with seriousness.

"What!?” She cried, then realised that I wasn’t serious. “Carra, your sense of humour sucks.” She took a breath and asked. “What do you really eat?”

I paused before I replied. I knew exactly what it was in my own tongue, but how would I explain the substance to Lilah? She was normally the one that explained things to me.

"I don't know what it's called in English," I admitted. "It's a strong smelling liquid that burns. It makes up the ocean on my planet," I explained, hoping that Lilah would be able to figure out the English word for whatever it could be.

Lilah shook her head. “A burning liquid? Is that even…? I have no idea.” She rolled her eyes. "Huh. Aliens only get weirder and weirder."

If I could, I would've rolled my eyes right back at her. It’s an expression used to signify exasperation. Humans are creatures with visible pupils, so the effect is pronounced and amusing, even only having two eyes.

For all the habits I'd learned from Lilah, I couldn't copy them all. It was fair enough: she'd never be able to copy the way my cerata could fold and splay in the dozens of ways they did to convey my feelings. She was still only wrapping her mind around the basic emotions I conveyed with them, but she was good at guessing.

A wave of loneliness washed over me as I thought of my own kind.

I sighed and considered going back to sleep. As much as I appreciated Lilah's status updates and conversations about my diet, I was exhausted.

My eyelids slid shut and I felt the comforting blanket of sleep overcome me. The ship had become surprisingly quiet for the past while.

Then the door to the holding bay came flying off its hinges and into a nearby wall.

Lilah yelped in surprise. My own head shot up in an instant and I stared directly at the smoke veiled form standing in the doorway. We were silent in fear and shock. The figure stepped forwards and my cerata picked up on the vibrations it sent tingling through the room.

Whatever it was, it wasn't a human or a Kelbrid, that I knew for sure. It walked with four steps and its feet sounded hard and brittle.

The figure swatted away the smoke, revealing itself to be a new kind of alien. Blue, furred, with a body configuration I never would've thought possible in my strangest dreams. It was utterly bizarre, so much that I wondered if I'd been drugged and this was all a hallucination. I barely noticed the bladed tail it held at its rear - though the sight quickly snapped me back to reality.

To my surprise, Lilah laughed. It was a type of awkward but relieved type of laughter I’d learned to associate with us barely avoiding Skrit-Na patrols. I tried to relax. Whatever it was, it had to be on our side.

"And I thought _you_ hated doors," she commented wryly from within our barred holding cell.

“Hey,” I hissed at her in protest. “You never explained -”

The alien's head - and were those eyestalks? - snapped to us.

<Are you the prisoners?> He asked us dutifully, reminding me of the way the guard-castes would talk to me back home. I always admired them.

I twitched. I'd heard him but hadn't heard any actual noise. The air was dead. I turned to Lilah. "Did you…?"

She nodded. "Telepathy," she whispered to me. I was familiar with the word, Lilah had told me at one point that some aliens used it.

"But the Andalites call it thought-speak," she added for my benefit. “Don’t know why, to be honest.”

This was a new opportunity to learn about an entirely different alien species. Andalites, I memorised. Just another word out of a hundred-thousand that I had to recall. All of them important for me, and potentially all of Kelbrid kind if I could ever get back to them.

Though... hadn’t I heard that name before?

Lilah decided to take the lead from there. "Yeah, we were the ones that sent the transmission," she admitted. "You're here to rescue us, right?" She glanced at me in concern. "I'm Lilah and this is Carralis."

The Andalite bowed his head. I took it to mean some sort of 'yes' gesture. "As you said in your transmission. My name is Alcazer-Nirrith-Vanger," he said. I noticed his eyestalks were pointed at me, staring. I stared back, trying to be brave. He couldn’t read my mind, at least.

Then Alcazer approached our cage and with a key, he unlocked the door. For some reason, I expected him to use his tail.

"The Skrit-Na?" Lilah asked Alcazer tentatively as we carefully stepped out from our cage. It felt odd for someone to let us out, considering the dozens of times we'd escaped of our own volition.

< Under custody of the _MeadowRunner_ , > Alcazer answered brusquely. < Now, would you allow me to escort you off this ship? Under Earth-Andalite laws, we _’_ re obligated to take you home, not that we wouldn’t do that anyhow. >

I noticed his thought-speak sounded tired, somehow. It wasn't a negative kind of tired, though. Instead it radiated a positive feeling. Elation? Relief? Alcazer's eyes were creased upwards: somehow, with no mouth, he was smiling, just like Lilah did.

Smiling – I had to wonder - was this something a lot of alien species did, or was it just a result of human-Andalite interaction?

Lilah nodded with her own smile.

With that, we followed the new alien to the _MeadowRunner._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's Chapter 2. I know there was a big delay despite me wanting to update weekly. I haven't given up yet though! As a bonus, Chapter 3 is coming at the same time!


	3. Chapter 3

"Lilah," I heard a voice call my name. It was Carralis.

I stopped. There was something weird about hearing him talk to me. Most aliens either didn't bother to learn English, spoke some kind of broken version of it, or dodged the problem entirely, like the Andalites did. Carra, however, actually spoke near perfect English.

Hell, the guy had even picked up my accent in his attempt to flawlessly copy me. If it weren't so surreal, I'd laugh at the idea that I was probably the first human to give an alien an English accent. If he ever starred in a movie, he’d make a great villain.

Apparently it wasn't so weird for him, though. He'd told me it was a Kelbrid thing to be able to learn languages so fast. There were weirder things that aliens could do, but it freaked me out a little anyway.

I’ll admit, I even wondered if he’d been infested by a Yeerk that just really sucked at acting. That’s how unbelievable it was.

Still: there was something alien to the cadence of his speech. Or maybe it was the tone. Something that reminded you that he was only imitating human speech. Like those videos you can watch on the internet of people's pet birds mimicking what their owners say to them. It was a voice that sounded human, but not quite.

It was, however, starting to grow on me. Carra could act quite adorable once you got to know him.

I turned around to see him hanging back behind me. He had four short forelegs, two short hind-legs, and a long slender body, like a ferret or an eel. Sometimes he’d walk on two legs, four legs, or even all six if the ship had hit turbulence. His colour was a simple, easy-on-the-eyes black.

Carralis’ appearance was far from boring though: if you looked closely, tiny, fish-like scales cascaded down his form, so miniscule that they reflected the light in so many more colours than just black.

By the way, did you think Andalites were paranoid? Because Kelbrids take 360 degree vision to a whole new level. Carralis’ eyes ran down both sides of his body, punctuating his body with turquoise and terminating just before his ‘tail’. To say it was technically a tail, though, wouldn’t be quite right.

You see, just off-centre from both sides of his back, olive-leaf shaped growths fanned out like petals. He could fold them close to his body, or spread them wide enough to look twice as large. These same growths carried down to form a long, flat tail that could split apart whenever he wanted.

His face though, was probably the least ‘face-like’ out of all the face-carrying aliens I knew. His eyes didn’t have pupils, and they just formed a line until they stopped at the tip of his snout.

In other words, he could be really creepy if he wanted to. Although maybe not quite as creepy as a Taxxon.

"Lilah?" He asked me again. "What is that?"

Our little party of three, Carra, Alcazer, and I, were about to board the Andalites' Dome Ship. We were in the ship's airlock, where the door leading to the actual MeadowRunner was rising to let us through. I'd been on a guest tour of a Dome Ship before, so the sight of cerulean grasses and the pitch dark ceiling of space wasn't new, but it still plastered a smile on my face. The sight was just as bizarre and wondrous as the first time.

"What's what?" I asked Carra as the door locked into place above us. Was he confused about the domed ceiling?

I gazed at him in bewilderment. He was stood staring, eyes (at least some of them) locked in astonishment, not at the ceiling, but at the floor of the ship. He looked like a cat that'd seen a cobra.

"Uh, that's grass, Carra," I pointed out, frowning.

He shot me a look of concern. It was surprising how expressive he could be with those fleshy leaf-like growths now that I figured out what some of the configurations meant.

"Is it… _safe_?" He asked me, referring to the grass.

My eyes flitted from my friend to Alcazer. The Andalite was already waiting for us with an amused expression on his face. I gazed pleadingly but Alcazer remained silent. I guess he was going to let us sort things out between us.

I sighed. This was really happening.

I was about to consult a member of one of the most potentially fiercest known alien races about the safety of grass.

"Carra," I said in as soothing a tone I could manage. From our time spent together on the Skrit-Na ship, I’d learned how flighty he could be around things he didn't understand. One time he’d even been afraid of a CD hanging by a string, like some kind of bird.

Although his reaction to shatter the thing into a thousand pieces was less bird-like. Maybe it was a Nickelback Album.

"I don't know if you have some kind of killer grass species on your planet,” I started explaining, “but if it weren't safe, I don't think the Andalites would lay it all over the floors of their ships,” I said, smiling.

Hey, he was an alien that understood humour. Besides, I wasn’t even half as bad as Oskel, and I secretly felt it was my duty to prepare him in case the two ever met.

Carra’s whole body profile altered as the leaf-like growths on him shifted downwards. From what I remembered he'd once begrudgingly told me, it was the Kelbrid equivalent of a blush. "We don't have grass on our planet," he explained timidly, as if it was his fault.

I tried not to look too sorry for him. This was completely new to him.

"Well, it's okay," I said, patting his shoulder, hoping to ease him. To show him, I stepped forward onto the springy blades, relishing the familiar sponginess through the soles of my sneakers. It wasn't Earth grass, but it was enough to make me feel as if I were walking through the park back home, and when you've been cooped up in a metal corridor for weeks on end, that is a good feeling. Even the air smelled fresher.

Carra didn't follow me right away. Instead he lowered his head, inspected the grass, decided it was indeed okay, then stepped one fore-leg forward onto the organic deck.

I glanced behind me at Alcazer and noticed a couple more Andalites had joined him, looking equally bemused. Considering they were stood in complete silence, they were almost definitely thought-speaking to each other. Probably about how ridiculous the whole situation was.

Blood rushed to my cheeks. "Come on, Carra, it's fine," I said. "Anyway, if you take any longer, the whole ship will be watching," I added, quietly enough that I hoped only Carra’s hearing would pick it up. After a moment's more of Carra's hesitation, I grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the ship.

"There," I said as I wiped a strange dust off from my hands that apparently coated his scales. "Not so bad, just like carpet, right?"

Silence.

"Uh, Carra?" I looked at him. Now he was staring at the domed ceiling. Had he been so focussed on the grass that he hadn't noticed it until now?

"Woah! There's no ceiling! That's… that's impossible!" Carra said in giddy tones. "It's amazing!"

It dawned on me once again that the space alien didn’t know anything about space. Didn’t they teach him anything in Kelbrid school or whatever?

I grinned. "I know, right? It shows how much Andalites love outdoor spaces," I explained. “There is a ceiling though, you just can’t see it. I think.”

It was fun to see his reactions to new things. It's why I couldn't resist showing him as many books and trinkets as I could find on the Skrit-Na ship.

Carra stopped gawking upwards and turned to the three Andalites, including Alcazer, that'd been watching the whole fiasco. Seeing them, he calmed down and stopped gushing about the ceiling. I guess they reminded him that we weren't alone anymore.

< Excuse me, ah, Carralis, > one of the Andalites asked him. < But what are you? We have never seen one of your kind before. > The Andalite leaned forward slightly, as if it would help him to understand Carra's foreign form.

Now that I looked closely at the Andalite that'd spoken, I got the sense that he was practically itching for an answer. Maybe he was a scientist? He didn't seem as well-built or stoic as Alcazer.

“I’m a Kelbrid,” he replied with a slight shuffle.

< A… Kelbrid? > The scientist repeated in befuddlement. < Alcazer? >

The Andalites eyes creased in concern. Fear flashed past Alcazer's face.

< This is… not good, > he said gruffly. A look of worry still held itself in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I interjected. Was there something wrong with Carra being a Kelbrid? Was I wrong in thinking the Andalite ship would be safe for us? Or more importantly, him? I knew vaguely that there was an agreement that Andalites and Kelbrids didn’t cross into each other’s space, but surely this was okay? Just an accident?

For a brief second, I even worried that I'd been wrong in thinking the grass was safe for him. What did I know about alien biology?

< The last part of your transmission, Carralis, was it you asking for help from other Kelbrids? > Alcazer asked.

Wait, did Alcazer think that sending a transmission was Carra’s idea?

Carralis nodded. “Yes. I told them a similar version to what Lilah said. I could translate it for you?”

< No, that shouldn’t be necessary. > Alcazer paused for a beat, thinking. Then he spoke. < We could all be in danger. Tesiran, tell our pilots to take an evasive course. We may be under threat from Kelbrid attack if they find us, > he instructed the third Andalite that hadn't said anything.

Who I guessed was Tesiran jerked into action in response. < Yes, Alcazer! > He bowed to his superior and galloped back towards the bridge.

"Why would the Kelbrids attack us?" I asked urgently. "We haven't done anything!" Carra, who'd taken up standing beside me, appeared equally confused.

< There is an agreement between our kind. That we are not to interfere with each other nor trespass into each other's space, > said Alcazer. He glanced at Carra in worry. < However, I'm afraid they may interpret our possession of your friend as a breach of that agreement. >

"Oh," I whispered under my breath in realisation. I really hoped that the Andalites were only being their typical vigilant selves. Surely the Kelbrids weren’t that bad. Carra was perfectly friendly.

To my surprise, the Andalite scientist spoke up.

< We could always throw him out of the airlock, sir > he suggested.

I snorted at the joke. “If you throw him out of the airlock, you’ll have to throw me out too,” I said mirthfully. “Carra doesn’t go anywhere without me.” It was kind of true. We’d been like peas in a pod for our entire time with the Skrit-Na.

Alcazer seemed confused. < That isn't an option, Rocammer, > he warned. < Why would you suggest that? >

Rocammer visibly winced. < I was only attempting human humour, sir. I thought it would make light of the situation. >

Alcazer frowned, then relaxed. < You've been on Earth for far too long, my friend, > he said fondly. Then, he turned to us. < There isn't much else we can do, > he said. < Let me show you where you can stay for now. As we were already on our way to Earth, we can at least return you, Lilah. As for you, > he looked towards Carra, who faltered slightly under the intense gaze. < We will have to sort an agreement out with the Electorate as to the best way to return you home. It might take a while. >

Carra instantly looked away, then back to me and then to Alcazer as if he wanted to say something.

Whatever it was, he never voiced it.

* * *

"I wish we’d taken something from the Skrit-Na ship now," Carra whined. He was sat on the floor of my quarters. The weird glittery powder that coated his scales drifted harmlessly to the floor, catching the light as they went.

"It's probably for the better," I conceded. "All the stuff the Andalites found off the Skrit-Na will probably either be returned or given to charity," I said. I knew Carra was missing his boardgames - it'd been his favourite thing to do when I didn't feel like showing him new stuff.

"Hey, you know Carra, since these are modified quarters for humans, maybe they might have something like a board game lying around," I theorised, hoping to cheer him up. "Or some paper! Then we could make our own board and dice and everything!"

We'd gotten pretty good at entertaining ourselves on the Skrit-Na ship, but I still wanted to slap myself upside the head for not thinking of this earlier.

"That sounds good," Carra replied with a smile. Normally I'd be disappointed by a reaction like that, but by now I knew Carra just wasn't too expressive outside body language - apart from when he got carried away, like with the ceiling. I nodded back to him.

"Let's check the next room for some," I suggested, rising from the sitting position I'd taken at the end of my bed. There were about half-a-dozen human converted rooms in the Andalites' quarters, for ambassadors and such. I'd taken one and Carra had taken a plain unconverted one across the hallway.

Just as I was about to lead the way out the room, a knock sounded. Carra startled and I flinched. Whoever knocked had actually been relatively delicate about it, but well, I guess both me and Carra were a little high-strung.

I glanced back towards Carra before turning to the door. "Who is it?" I asked.

< Ezurin-Sijjam-Vangar, > a surprisingly feminine sounding 'voice' thought-spoke to the both of us, unaffected by the door and walls that separated her. < Can we speak? >

It was a female Andalite, I realised with a blink. I couldn't help but smile a little. I'd never actually met a female Andalite before. This'd be a first! How would Carra react?

"Oh yeah! Of course," I replied quickly and pulled open the door. I was greeted by a visage of a small-ish Andalite with plum fur and a delicate tail-blade. Even her hooves and face seemed daintier than the males I'd seen earlier. It wasn't like I'd never seen pictures on the internet, but there's something to be said for seeing things in person.

She looked at me and Carra in confusion, presumably wondering what he was doing in my room. Carra was quiet but he didn't seem surprised. Maybe he'd been expecting some kind of dimorphism?

Ezurin faltered. < I'm here to show you and Carralis around the ship, > she explained. < So… would you like to? > Her eyes flitted between us, as if she was searching for something, or maybe trying to figure out what we'd say.

"Sure," I replied, noticing she seemed kind of nervous for an Andalite. I realised something. "Hey, you said your last name's Vangar? Are you related to Alcazer?"

< Oh. Yes, > said Ezurin. < He's my father. He was the one who told me to show both of you around. I had been planning on explaining on the way to get Carralis but… > She glanced at Carra. < I didn't expect both of you to be here. >

"Um, hi," Carra introduced himself. "We were just talking with each other. I wasn't what you were expecting?"

Oh yeah! I wasn't the only one here who'd just encountered something she'd never seen before.

< I… didn't know what I was expecting, > Ezurin admitted. Her eyes widened. < How are you speaking English? A translator? >

"I learned it. Kelbrids are good at learning new languages. What about you? How do all the Andalites know English? Isn’t it a human language?"

< As Andalites, we don't need to alter our thought-speak for others to understand us, > said Ezurin. < I do have a translator implant though. >

“Your kind are lucky,” said Carra. “There are a lot of languages on my planet, so we had to agree on a Universal language. Everyone’s still stubborn about giving up their own language though,” he admitted. “And it’s rude not to speak to a foreign Kelbrid in his own language, so we still have to learn them anyway,” he sulked.

Ezurin’s interest perked. < Oh! Really? > She asked.

I smiled at seeing Carra take the reins. He’d never seemed that talkative before now. Maybe it was Ezurin’s bashfulness?

Still, we were forgetting something.

“Um, about the tour?” I reminded.

< I almost forgot about it, sorry Lilah, > she apologised, sounding genuinely remorseful, then turned to lead the way.

She led us down the corridors, explaining how the MeadowRunner was used for ferrying ambassadors and trade goods between Earth and the Andalite homeworld. We were lucky to have been picked up by the ship, considering it was already on its way back to Earth.

Ezurin had arrived at the Z-Space engines when I’d noticed something was afoot.

Carra was gone.

“Uh, Ezurin,” I prompted her in the middle of an explanation.

She stopped. < What’s wrong? > She asked, still not seeing the problem.

“I think we lost Carra,” I admitted guiltily.

< Oh… It appears that we have, > she said, pausing in thought. < I’ll go find him. I know the ship well, it won’t be difficult. Stay here. > She turned to leave the way we came.

“No, I’ll go with you,” I said. “He’s my friend. And it’ll be faster with two pairs of… uh, three pairs of eyes.”

< Of course, > she acquiesced. < But please let me lead. I can remember the route we took. >

We then back-tracked down through the hallways that we’d come from, checking the rooms along the way just in case Carra had, for some reason, snuck into one of them.

“Not in this one,” I said, sighing and closing the door to yet another storage room.

Ezurin looked at me with a troubled expression. < Lilah… Carralis can be trusted, can’t he? >

I turned to her and nodded. “Of course he can. I mean, he was actually the one who tried making friends with me when we first met. He’s a little quiet, but he’s super nice. Why ask?”

< Ah, never mind. I do not know much about Kelbrids, and we simply have some… valuable cargo on this ship, > she explained.

I shook my head, understanding what she was getting at. “I don’t think he’d ever steal. He probably just got lost or distracted,” I said, starting to feel more and more uncertain. Why _had_ he split away from us? We hadn’t taken any particularly confusing turns and he was more than capable of keeping up with us.

I carried onto the next room and went to open it. Strangely, it was unmarked. Normally there’d be some kind of Andalite script written on the door that supposedly indicated the type of goods inside, but this one was completely blank.

Undeterred, I took a peek inside. The room was completely empty apart from -

“What’s _that?_ ” I said in awe.

Ezurin approached behind me and her eyes widened in confusion. < I… I have no idea, > she said.

I warily entered the room, enraptured by how the thing could float like that. “It’s awesome,” I said as I inspected the perfect sphere. “Wow, it looks so clean too. It must be brand-new.”

It was a floating, flawless white sphere.

< I wonder if… > Ezurin trailed off and stared into the distance. She’d followed me into the room shortly afterwards to inspect the sphere with me.

“Lilah! Ezurin!” A familiar voice cried out as its owner poked his head into the room. “Oh, I’m glad I found you two,” he said, voice filled with relief. “Something _weird_ -”

“Look at this, Carra,” I said to him and motioned towards the sphere.

Instantly, he fell silent. “How does it float like that?” He asked us.

“I don’t know,” I said as I approached it. A lot of things could levitate in this day and age, but they were normally powered by something. I didn’t see anything powering the sphere. It sort of just floated there, as if it weren’t really a part of this universe at all. Like a ghost.

I stepped closer to it and reached out. I touched it. I smiled.

“Hey, it’s warm,” I said.

< Should you really be touching that? > Ezurin asked, worried. < Even I don’t know what it is. It could be dangerous. >

“I don’t see anything bad happening,” Carra observed. He approached closer and held out a hand as well to touch it himself. His protrusions shifted in a configuration I hadn’t seen before.

“It feels kinda… relaxing to touch, doesn’t it?” I said to him.

He nodded.

Ezurin was still stood off to the side. < I suppose… I shouldn’t want to be left out if it’s so interesting to touch, > she said and joined us. She reached out with an arm and lightly touched the sphere with us.

Her eyes creased and she pulled away. Then she touched the sphere again.

< Strange. I feel as if I’m walking through the gardens outside my scoop when I touch this, > she said.

“I… I feel like when I’m back home, hanging out in my friend’s room. Watching movies, listening to music together.” I sighed. I imagined what he’d be doing right now. Probably sat in his room, with the curtains drawn and messing around on his computer.

Carra’s eyes widened in recognition. “It reminds me of home, too,” he admitted finally.

At that moment, I wished that we were there. Not out in the vacuum of Z-Space on an Andalite spaceship, far away from anything we ever knew about.

< I think we should go, though. > Ezurin said, pulling away from the sphere. < We’re not supposed to be here. >

“Yeah,” I agreed, letting go of the smooth surface. The feeling of homely warmth drifted off, lost.

Carra, though, hesitated. Eventually, he turned away from the sphere. “That thing is weird. I wonder what it is?”

“It reminds me of something. Like I should know what it is, but… I just can’t remember.” I said.

We left the room, discussing between ourselves what the sphere could be. Soon enough though, our conversation changed course, and the sphere left our minds as we’d left it. There were many more sights on the MeadowRunner, and Ezurin was keen to get through them all.


End file.
